What They Say and Who You Are
by only-some-loser
Summary: Aladdin is king now, but that doesn't mean he feels like one. Part of him still lives on the street, and can't adjust to living in the palace. Others, like Razoul and foreign dignitaries, seem to agree that he isn't up to the task. But not everyone thinks that, and Genie and Jasmine are determined to show him that he is always loved.


**AN: I really wanted to write an Aladdin fic after seeing the new movie three times, and here it is! I will most likely be writing more for Aladdin too, because it was my favorite Disney movie as a kid, and I love the new one. Aladdin was always my favorite Disney prince, and when someone is my favorite, that means I have to hurt them lol. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!**

**For those of you waiting on the next chapter of my Kingsman/MacGyver crossover, I have the next chapter halfway done, and I'm hoping to have it up before I go up north this weekend, but I can't promise anything.**

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The bed was warm, and the sheets were the softest things to ever touch his body, except for maybe the skin of his beautiful wife. Jasmine always got up before Aladdin did, having much to do as the new sultan of Agrabah, and being quite used to the bed she had grown up in. Before marrying the then-princess, Aladdin couldn't remember the last time that he had slept in an actual bed. The worn blanket on the floor of his hovel was as good as things got for him, so a real bed with the highest quality of sheets and blankets were things he was never going to take for granted. Abu seemed to like them too. Sometimes, the monkey insisted to sleep snuggled up right next to Aladdin, despite the fact that he had his own bed now, a bed that, although significantly smaller, was just as luxurious as the bed Aladdin shared with Jasmine. But even Abu, being a monkey, would get up before Aladdin did. It wasn't that he always slept so incredibly late, but that he was always just so comfortable in that bed. He enjoyed simply laying there, with all those blankets keeping him warm, and making him feel safe. Adjusting to life in the palace, especially after all of the traumatic events that brought him there, had been interesting to say the least. But he was lucky. Jasmine was always patient with him, and she was completely understanding when royal customs confused him. She helped him to learn the proper order of fork usage and other silverware, and they had both laughed good-naturedly when he messed it up.

That was just one of the many amazing things about Jasmine. She didn't expect him to be perfect at this royalty stuff overnight, like others did. It had been six months, and he still struggled. Aladdin still conserved his food, not eating too much at once, because it was difficult to break the habit of saving food for later. He was a king now, and didn't need to shove an apple in his pocket when no one was looking, but there was a part of him that still lived on the street, and never knew when he was getting his next meal. Jasmine had caught him doing that once or twice, and always assured him that he didn't have to, that he never had to worry about where he was going to get his next meal again, because not only did he now live in a palace and could get food whenever he wanted, but she loved him, and she would never let him starve. At least Hakim and Razoul and all of the other guards had yet to see him fall back into his old habits. Razoul was the worst. The man was constantly chasing him on the streets, and the palace was no different. He refused to call him by his name, or even title if Jasmine wasn't around. Razoul would only ever call him "street rat", and was constantly looking for an excuse to throw him in the dungeon. Aladdin tried not to let it bother him, because some people were just jerks and that was how life was, but on the hard days, when he really knew that had absolutely no idea how to be king, Razoul's words, coupled with his internal insecurities and the doubt from his people, could be particularly hurtful and frustrating.

"Hey, kid!" shouted a very familiar voice from the other side of the closed door. "Jasmine asked me to come get you, now get your butt out of bed and open the door or I'm gonna open it for you," Genie said. He and Dalia were married now too, and were living at the palace while they prepared to take their journey around the world - at least, around the Mediterranean. Genie - which most people still called him, despite not actually being a genie anymore, although Dalia would call him Gene on occasion and sometimes Aladdin himself would just call him G - had taken the position of being Aladdin's valet in order to earn some money, since they would be needing that to buy the boat and start their trip. At first, Aladdin had completely refused. He couldn't have Genie, his best friend, his father figure even, as his servant, especially not since Aladdin had freed him from the lamp. But Genie had been very persuasive, and convinced Aladdin that he really wouldn't be getting jams for him at all hours of the day anyway, it was just a formality and an excuse for him to stay in the palace, with Dalia and Aladdin. And that's exactly how it was. Ninety-nine percent of the time, Genie wasn't doing anything that servants would do, he would just hang out and be a friend, like Dalia was to Jasmine. But it was times like this, when Aladdin wasn't sure if Genie was acting like a valet, or an annoying friend. Maybe both?

Aladdin groaned as loudly as he could, just to make sure that Genie would be able to hear him from the other side of the door. "But it's warm in here!" he shouted into his pillow. The sound was muffled, but still loud enough to be heard. He groaned again when he heard the door being opened.

"Kid, get up," Genie said. It sounded like he was right next to Aladdin's bed. He tilted his head and cracked open one eye. Genie had his arms crossed, but a fond smile on his face.

"It's comfy," Aladdin muttered in reply, visibly snuggling deeper into his many blankets.

"Did you forget that the ambassador from Sherabad will be here in, like, an hour?" Genie asked him.

Aladdin bolted upright, his eyes wide. "That's today?" he asked in shock. How could he have forgotten? "Why didn't you remind me?"

"I did," Genie replied, confused. "Last night, when you tellin' me about wanting to visit Sherabad in order to feel like you knew Jasmine's mother."

He closed his eyes and sighed, hanging his head a bit. Genie was right, he had told him, but Aladdin had been too focused on wishing that he had been able to meet Jasmine's mother and missing his own to really process what his friend had said.

"You gotta get ready," Genie said, grabbing a light hold on Aladdin's arm and dragging him out of bed. He hated losing that comfort and warmth, but Genie was right, he needed to get ready. He couldn't let Jasmine down. "You go wash up, I'll get some clothes ready." A normal valet would help the king wash up, but Genie was not a normal valet, and Aladdin was not a normal king. Living on the street his whole life meant that Aladdin had never had anyone helping him when it came to washing and dressing, and that wasn't something that he was interested in changing, king or not. Aladdin was fully capable of doing all of that without any help, thank you very much. Still, it was Genie's job to assist him, and if he was going to be completely ready for the ambassador from Sherabad on time, then Genie getting a set of clothes ready for him wasn't a bad idea.

Soon enough, Aladdin was presentable and walking out the doors of his chambers with Genie close behind. He was walking a bit more quickly than he needed to, and Genie definitely noticed.

"You're fine, relax," Genie said, resting his large hand on Aladdin's shoulder, speaking calmly. His voice did always have a way of calming him down. It was soothing. It wasn't the same kind of soothing as Jasmine, but still, Aladdin craved it, and he knew why. Something about it made him think of the father he never knew. He couldn't remember the man at all, and the only thing he knew for sure was that his name was Cassim. Most likely, he was dead. Aladdin had been an orphan for almost as long as he could remember, but when he was pulled from a watery death six months ago, he started to not feel like one anymore. "You're on time, and you're gonna do great," Genie continued with a smile and a gentle squeeze of Aladdin's shoulder. "You've been working so hard with Jasmine, and Dalia, and me, and you're gonna do great."

Aladdin let out a deep breath and nodded. "You're right, it'll be fine," he said, but his heart wasn't in his words. The servants pushed open the doors at his arrival, which was something that Aladdin was still trying to get used to. Jasmine was talking with Dalia, with Rajah at her feet, and Abu on Rajah's shoulder. The tiger never strayed far from her, taking his role as her protector very seriously, but he'd eagerly accepted Abu as a friend. Jasmine looked over at him the moment he walked in, as did Dalia, but she was clearly looking at her own husband if her blissful look was anything to go by.

"Took you long enough," Jasmine said, but her smile betrayed her. Aladdin gave her an awkward smile in return. She knew how much he loved the comfort of their bed, and she understood exactly why, so Jasmine didn't give him too much trouble over it. "They'll be here soon," she reminded him. Jasmine took her place at the foot of the stairs, with Aladdin standing next to her and slightly behind her. She was, after all, sultan, and he was only king. Jasmine would always have more power than he did, and Aladdin was completely okay with that. He didn't know anything about ruling a kingdom anyway. Genie and Dalia stood together several paces away, still visible, but not in a place of attention. As per usual, guards lined the room. Hakim and Razoul stood closest to them, since they were the most senior guards at the palace. Aladdin tried to ignore the dirty looks and glares that Razoul always gave him, but he couldn't help but notice the man's scowl. It didn't help that the guard was over a full head taller than him, making every look a glower.

Only a few moments later, the doors were opened, and the ambassador from Sherabad walked through, accompanied by a small number of his own guards and servants. He gave a small bow, and was introduced by his servant.

"Ambassador Baqri of Sherabad, your majesties," the servant said, gesturing to the ambassador beside him. Baqri nodded slowly in respect.

"Sultan Jasmine of Agrabah, and her...consort, Aladdin," Razoul said. Aladdin rolled his eyes and let out a small sigh. He could practically hear the sneer the in the man's voice, but he wasn't going to press the issue in front of the ambassador. At least he didn't call him a street rat. That was always worse, even though being called a consort gave a lot of negative connotations.

But Jasmine didn't seem to be of the same mind. "He is my husband and king," she snapped, quickly turning to Razoul with a glare that forced back any refutation. Aladdin could feel his face heating up a bit, but not from embarrassment or anything like that. He didn't mind it when Jasmine stuck up for him, especially since no one had ever stuck up for him his whole life, aside from Abu, but he was a monkey, so that didn't really count. No, his face was heating up because his wife was so amazing and beautiful and when she did something like that...wow. Aladdin bit his lip to keep himself from smiling.

"My deepest apologies, your majesties," Razoul rushed out, even though Aladdin knew he wasn't sorry at all. Still, it was great to hear Jasmine make him say that.

Aladdin and Jasmine turned back to the ambassador, but Aladdin could see Genie and Dalia struggling to contain their smiles out of the corner of his eye.

"It is an honor to do business with you," the ambassador said with another slight bow.

"The pleasure is ours to host you," Jasmine quickly responded with a small smile of her own. "Come," she continued. "Let us eat, and then we may begin to discuss business." She motioned for Baqri and his servants to follow the guards as they walked out an adjacent door, and towards one of the many beautiful canopied courtyards.

A table sat in the middle of the courtyard, ornately decorated, and piled high with food. Every time Aladdin thought he was used to seeing so much food, he saw it again and realized he wasn't used to it. How could he ever be? But it was something that he would never take for granted, having grown up in such poverty.

He took his place right next to Jasmine, who sat on the higher pillows at the head of the table. Aladdin focused on the various eating utensils, going through the use of each one in his mind. Knowing which one to use had to become second nature to him, and it wasn't quite yet. Still, he had it down pretty well, as long as he reminded himself beforehand. Jasmine had taught him well. He still remembered the time he was forced to admit to her that he had no idea which one was which. It had been shortly after the whole Jafar debacle, when he had his first proper meal with only Jasmine there. Before then, while he was in the palace, he'd only ever eaten by himself when the servants brought food to him, or in a buffet style, like at the party for the harvest. That night, Jasmine had quickly noticed his staring at all of the various utensils, which forced him to admit that he'd never used more than one before. Of course, she had found that endearing, and set about to teach him the use of each one. She had to remind him a few times since, but the habits were forming.

Aladdin was so caught up in his memories of Jasmine's seemingly endless patience and grace with him that he didn't notice that the ambassador was trying to get his attention until Jasmine gently kicked him under the table. His eyes shot up and made eye contact with his beautiful wife. She motioned towards the ambassador with her eyes, causing Aladdin to quickly look over and realize that Baqri was staring at him expectantly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ambassador Baqri, I was lost in thought," he said with a smile, trying not to act like he'd just been daydreaming about his wife. "What were you saying?"

"I was just noticing the sultan's beautiful tiger, and the monkey sitting atop it," he said. "And wanted to ask you if the two had always gotten along, since the sultan informs me that the monkey belongs to you."

Those definitely weren't the words that Jasmine had used, but Aladdin wasn't going to mention that. "Abu doesn't belong to me, he's just a friend of mine," he quickly replied, smiling. Abu had been the only friend he had for years. But it didn't look like the others thought his comment was that amusing. Genie's eyes were wide, and since he was at the other end of the table, behind the ambassador, he was shaking his head slightly. Baqri looked confused, and only slightly appalled.

"He is a monkey, not a-"

"We treat all of the animals of Agrabah with respect and care, especially those that live in the palace with us," Jasmine interrupted in a display of power that Aladdin would always love. No one dared interrupt the sultan, but she could cut off whoever she chose, and he loved that. His wife was awesome.

"But to answer your question," Aladdin continued, bringing the topic of question back around. "Yes, Abu and Rajah have always gotten along well. Rajah is a good judge of character, and Abu is a sweet monkey, even if he can get a little carried away sometimes." He smiled down at Jasmine's bracelet, the one that Abu had stolen all those months ago, and looked up at his beautiful wife's face. She was smiling right back at him, clearly trying to contain her laughter at the memories. Aladdin's palace break in to return the bracelet had been quite an interesting evening, even if he had thrown Abu under the caravan a bit.

At the ambassador's slightly disgusted look, Aladdin realized that he must have been doing something wrong. Genie was giving him that clearly fake smile that meant that Aladdin was trying hard but wasn't quite getting it, and Dalia mouthed to him, 'you're doing great, habibi'. But Jasmine was smiling fondly. It was a real smile too, so he couldn't be doing that badly. She would definitely be giving him 'the look' if he were.

"Well," Baqri slowly said, "I suppose it is nice to have pets around." He took a sip of his tea.

"No," Aladdin responded with a caring smile. This guy just wasn't getting it, but Aladdin was more than willing to help out with that. "Abu and Rajah aren't pets, they're our friends, part of our family, even..." Aladdin trailed off when he noticed the looks that the ambassador and his servants were giving him. None of them looked happy. They were looking at him like- like he was a street rat, because only a street rat would insist that these animals weren't pets, but friends. Wealthy people didn't do that, especially not royalty. Aladdin looked away from them all and took a sip of his tea. He hated that look, why did they have to look at him like that?

"Growing up, I had a dog that my family simply adored," Genie said, piquing Aladdin's interest, as well as the interest of everyone else at the table. "We just called him Fluffy, but he really made that house a home," he finished, smiling gently, as if recalling fond memories. Only Aladdin, Jasmine, and Dalia knew that it was a lie, since genie's didn't grow up with dogs. But he'd gotten the attention off Aladdin, and had made him feel much less awkward. That had probably been his intention.

"Yes, animals certainly do liven up a place," Dalia added, staring at Genie.

Conversation returned to normal, but Aladdin fell quiet. He didn't want to say anything he shouldn't by mistake again. Jasmine noticed, obviously, because she noticed everything. She caught his eye, and just looked at him, concerned. Aladdin nodded, letting her know that everything was fine, or at least, it would be. Genie kept glancing over at him too. Was it really that obvious that he was just a complete failure in general at being king? Aladdin knew that wasn't really why Genie was looking at him, but a little voice in the back of his mind said that it was, and that voice was growing louder by the minute.

Once they had finished the meal, and the servants had come and gone to clear the table, it was time to discuss business. Hopefully, all questions would be directed at Jasmine, and he would just have to sit there, nod, and agree with her. She knew way more about all of this stuff than he did, anyway.

Ambassador Baqri was there to discuss a new extradition treaty between the allied kingdoms. The topic itself could be a sensitive one for Aladdin, since he had lived as a criminal for his entire remembered life, aside from the past six months. Still, he was king, and these people didn't know anything about his past. They were from Sherabad, and had no reason to know that he was a thief for so many years.

"If a someone commits a crime in Agrabah, then flees to Sherabad, where they commit another crime, an even worse one, then they should be sentenced in Sherabad," Baqri insisted.

"But they should not just be sentenced," Jasmine argued. "It should be confirmed that they did in fact commit both crimes, and they should be sentenced for both crimes too, not just the worse one. And the circumstances of the crime must be taken in account as well."

"Your majesty, why do the circumstances matter? If someone steals something, they are a thief, no matter why they did it, and thieves' hands get cut off. That is the price they pay for being criminals," Baqri said, his voice growing slightly louder in his argument. Aladdin barely held back a flinch, and subconsciously rubbed at his wrists. He was lucky to have them after having been a thief for so many years.

"If someone is stealing because they're starving, then I think that cutting their hands off is a bit extreme," Aladdin said, trying to sound casual. He could feel Jasmine next to him. She had slowly moved closer and closer to him, to the point where their legs were now touching. The subtle support and reassurance was more calming than he would've liked to admit.

"All due respect, your highness," Baqri said. The use of a lower honorific could've been an accident, but it felt personal to Aladdin. "But if someone has to steal to survive, then maybe they should try to get a job instead," he said with a sickly sweet smile.

Aladdin tried to keep his face passive, but it was hard when people acted like they were so much better than him. He had to remind himself that the ambassador didn't know his past, and wasn't intentionally trying to act like he was.

"If someone is called a street rat their whole life, no one will ever hire them," Aladdin insisted. "They can try all they want, but it's not their fault if no one will hire them because they're poor." He forgot how many times he tried to get a job. Yes, there were times when he would give up because he was sick of doors getting slammed in his face, sick of people sneering at him and calling him street rat. But he tried, and he tried so hard. It wasn't his fault. "Part of the culture needs to be changed in order for true change to happen here."

Baqri sighed. "Culture will not change for thieves," he said, but he didn't sound too sympathetic about it.

"Maybe it should," Jasmine interjected. "What the king says is true, and these reasons as to why people commit crimes need to be addressed if true change is ever to come about." She slid a relaxing hand onto Aladdin's thigh, under the table, where no one would see.

"That may be true, but it will not stop a thief from getting his hands severed," Baqri said, looking directly at Aladdin.

He couldn't take it anymore. He had to leave. He needed an excuse to leave.

"At least we're actually trying to do something to help the kingdom," Aladdin said angerly. "Like setting up charities and ways to help people in poverty. Speaking of which, I have a meeting with the charity directors." He did have that meeting with a charity he was developing to help orphans, but not for several more hours. Aladdin abruptly stood, and made brief eye contact with Jasmine. She looked at him with sadness, but Aladdin didn't know if that sadness was for him, or the way he was acting. He decided he didn't want to know.

Genie was saying something, but Aladdin wasn't paying attention to what it was. He walked straight for the door, purposely not looking at Razoul or the guard from Sherabad, who were standing on either side of it.

"Finally figured it out that a street rat can't rule?" Razoul asked mockingly, then laughed softly. "Ambassador Baqri isn't the only one who wants the hands of a thief."

"Just shut up," Aladdin muttered, barely loud enough for the guards to hear him. But as he walked past, Razoul just had to say one more thing.

"He'd make a better bacha bazi than a king."

Aladdin's sharp intake of breath was the only sign he allowed himself to give that Razoul's words affected him at all. The guards began to laugh, then abruptly stopped. Aladdin didn't look back to see why. He walked a little faster, and knew that his breathing was speeding up as well. He needed to calm down. Aladdin got to his chambers as quickly as he could, and slammed the door behind him. Groaning loudly, he let himself fall onto the bed, and stared at the ceiling. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, letting the black locks, which had been carefully combed to the side, fall back over his forehead and into his eyes. Aladdin needed to calm down. It was fine, everything was fine.

The sound of rushing wind stole his attention. Aladdin sat up and turned to the left, and saw Carpet flying over from the balcony. Due to his magical qualities, Carpet stayed out of site when visitors from other kingdoms came to the palace, unless they were very, very well trusted. Carpet flew over to Aladdin and rested a hand - well, tassel - on Aladdin's arm as if to ask, 'what's wrong?'.

"Thanks, Carpet, but I really just want to be alone right now," Aladdin said, turning away from his friend. Carpet didn't seem to care much about what Aladdin said, because he didn't leave. Instead, he wrapped himself around Aladdin like a blanket, pulling himself tight around him like a hug. Despite what he'd said, Aladdin couldn't help but smile. "Thanks," he repeated softly, patting Carpet's tassel. After a minute, Carpet relaxed his hold, and slowly flew away, honoring his friend's request to be alone.

But maybe being alone was a mistake. Now, as he fell back onto his back, all he could hear in his head was Razoul's words, calling him a street rat and saying he should've been a bacha bazi. It hit closer to home than Razoul knew. Aladdin had been lucky, really. He'd only been poor, but he survived off what he stole, never had his hands taken from him, and was never captured by slavers. Many he knew weren't so lucky. Plenty of poor, homeless orphans like himself suffered much more, either dying, being arrested and unable to escape, or being sold into a harem or bacha bazi. That could've easily been Aladdin too. It almost was, multiple times, but he always managed to escape or get out of it. Maybe he didn't deserve to get out of it. Maybe he deserved to rot in a dungeon, handless, or be someone's slave. That's how so many people saw him anyway.

Aladdin was taken out of his dark thoughts by a knock at the door.

"Go away," he grumbled. He was way too emotional for anyone to be around him. Despite what he said, the door opened a crack.

"Al, it's me, Genie," he said. Genie opened the door further and walked in, carefully closing the door behind him. "I know what happened sucked, but you can't let it get to ya, kid," Genie said, shaking his head.

"Easy for you to say," Aladdin muttered. "You didn't hear what Razoul said to me, what he said about me, how the ambassador looked at me, you don't get it," he said, his voice rising to almost a shout by the end. Aladdin quickly sat up and ran his hands through his hair again in frustration. He looked at his hands, incredibly grateful that he even had them. If Baqri had his way, Aladdin would have to say goodbye to his hands.

"I did hear," Genie said. "I left the moment you did. I'm your valet, it's my job to stick with you. But I'm also your friend, so it's my joy to stick with you too. So I did hear what Razoul said, and one glare from me shut him up pretty fast. He still actually remembers when I was a real genie, and I think he's still a little scared of me," he finished with a smile.

"But what if he was right?" Aladdin muttered under his breath, hanging his head. "What if I would make a better slave than a king? I was so close so many times to being one anyway."

"But you're not," Genie insisted. He leaned down to be a little closer to Aladdin. "You survived everything that life on the streets threw at you, and you survived Jafar too." Genie ducked his head, forcing Aladdin to make eye contact. "What they say about you doesn't matter. It only matters what you say about you," he said, tapping Aladdin on the chest for emphasis. "Come on, kiddo. What happened to that confident kid I met in the Cave of Wonders, who was smart enough to trick a genie? Where's the confident kid who knew he was faster than all the guards and could always escape? I want to talk to the kid who stopped Jafar and married a princess and is always ready to drop everything and help someone just out of the goodness of his heart. That kid is still in there." He tapped on Aladdin's chest again. "And that kid knows that he can do anything he sets his mind to, and I know that that kid is infinitely worthy of love. I love that kid so much, because not only is he king of Agrabah, but he's my kid too."

Aladdin knew that Genie was right, and the man's words impacted him a lot more than he wanted to say. "But you're leaving," he whispered. The only reason Genie was his valet was to earn money to take Dalia around the Mediterranean, and he would be leaving in a week or so.

"Me taking my wife on our long delayed honeymoon is not the same thing as me leaving you, kid," Genie insisted, shaking his head. He grabbed Aladdin's hands in his, and lightly squeezed. "I am not leaving you, and I never will. I'm gonna be back. I'm always gonna come back. Dalia wants kids, and they're gonna need a big brother, so I won't always be gone. The world is big and beautiful and I can't wait to see it with Dalia, but there's nothing in the world quite like you and Jas. I'm always gonna come back to you, kid, I promise." Genie finished his speech by taking a light hold of Aladdin's shoulders, and pulling him close.

Aladdin let himself be pulled into the hug. Genie just held him, gently rubbing his back, and even moving a hand up to run his fingers through Aladdin's hair. He just melted into it, and gripped the back of Genie's tunic harder than he thought he could, as if Genie was going to disappear if Aladdin couldn't hold on. It was different than the hug they shared when Aladdin freed his friend from the lamp. This wasn't a hug meant to show gratitude, but one to show comfort, and as much as Aladdin tried to deny it, it was a comfort that he needed. Once again, Aladdin's thoughts drifted back to his father, but instead of seeing a faceless man raising him, he saw Genie. Aladdin gripped Genie even more, and held on as tight as he could. He'd already lost one father, and he really didn't want to lose another.

After another minute, Aladdin finally pulled away. That was enough mushy emotion for one afternoon.

"We don't have to let Jasmine know about that, do we?" he asked, giving Genie the biggest puppy eyes he could.

Genie just laughed. "Of course not, kid," he said, reaching over and ruffling Aladdin's hair. Aladdin swatted him away, but couldn't help but smile himself. "The ambassador should be leaving soon though, so you should go let Jasmine know that you're okay." Genie paused. "You are okay, right?"

"Yeah," Aladdin quickly responded with a smile. "Now, I'm okay." It was true. He'd never had a friend - or a father - like Genie.


End file.
